Life is Pain
by DeathMcGunz
Summary: Victoria likes Pain. This is a love story. A tragedy. Victoria/Max
1. Main Campus

Victoria liked pain. The stinging, beating, cutting rash of all her favorite drugs tied up into the tourniquet around her arm. The suffocating virus of the nighttime air as she sat on her windowsill, so eager (yet timid) to just jump. Everything was quiet in the pain. It was a cocoon with the trappings of a real night out with her father's credit card, strapped into the back seat of that older guy who lived just off campus. But the real stuff, the true pain, that was hard to come by.

Nathan could bring the pain. Pills popped in his car left empty bottles of booze under her bed as the days wore down into the long winding semester. With the night brought the spare keys and late night swims in the drunken spirit of the shark and otter infested waters. The ocean was great, but the salt got under her skin and between her toes and it itched her in all the wrong spots.

What hurt her best was the pizza. Not because she loved the greasy pepperoni and juicy pineapple, but because she was spoiled already. Nathan's money was just the last drop of acid on a bad trip which landed her in front of the mirror on lazy Sunday's, pinching at the belly fat she wished she had so she could make herself throw up without hating herself too much.

Sharing never came easy, because being on top never lent itself to being a friend. Nathan's almost animalistic nature brought out a kindness only found in mothers who look after adopted children. She fed him the thinly cut slices of peperoni off her pizza as he laid back in the parking lot, starring into the partially cloudy sky. The stars shown like pin pricks of light in the blackness. If Victoria had her camera she'd have surely captured the sight.

If it weren't for the sudden jolt of light from the gymnasium pool, they might have laid there for the rest of the night, like they had on most drunken nights. But the dew on the grass brushing against their bare feet eased the buzz from the cheap beer. The panic didn't even last passed the courtyard, as their laughter held the silence hostage.

On a normal night, the sight of principal Wells on his porch, spouting drunken nonsense would have sent Victoria rushing back into the school to take the long way around, coming up to her dorm by Samuel's little shack of random supplies and odd ball fashion magazines. On that route, she'd carve something clever into the large Native American statue watching over the courtyard, but this time Nathan just waved at Mr. Wells and flashed his quirky smile. It was like the weirdest get-out-of-jail-free card she had ever had the pleasure of chilling with.

"That man drinks like a teenager," she said.

"If he did maybe he'd be less of a cunt." The last word was louder. He wanted the principal to hear. And Victoria loved that. She loved it like she loved Capa, McCurry and Carter. It was the kind of love that most movies never spoke of. Deeper than lust and much more shallow than "the one". It was like friendship but more spiritual. She never thought herself a poet.

They never held hands on their walks, though sometimes she wished they did. She wondered if he wished it too. He probably did. She was gorgeous, sharp like a knife and carved from nothing more than stone cold ice. Anyone would fall in love for her piercing wit and demeaning attitude (or at least that's what she thought). To her, there was nothing more attractive than being the alpha. The top dog. All of those kids that wasted their times on games and manga, like that Warren Geek, should have been bred out of existence. If not even a fellow hipster cool-girl like Maxine could fuck a foreign-to-girls freak like Warren, then no one in their right mind would find it in themselves to let him inseminate them.

Her scowl followed them into the dorm and up the stairs. The hallway was an abandoned version of the day-lit one. It was a movie set put out of production, left on a backlot to collect dust and haunting memories. They stood there, letting the beer and pizza settle in their guts before anyone spoke: "Goodnight," Nathan said.

"Yup," Victoria said. She wished he had invited himself back to her place, the way he usually did. They'd swap saliva for a bit and pass out on the bed after a few pills took hold. Things were different though, after Kate almost jumped. Victoria felt it deep inside herself. Guilt is what some would call it, but Victoria didn't think it was guilt. She didn't think it was her fault. Not entirely.

In her dorm she popped a few sleeping pills and laid on her bed. But she didn't sleep. Wandering the corridors of these feelings, thinking about Max and how she was on the roof too, there to save her. On her phone, the video she started taking played over and over again. Tears welled up in Victoria's eyes and she cried, sobbed, shaking in her bed.

The video went on until her battery blinked red and she tossed her phone against the wall. Daddy's money would buy her a new one, new model, but that's not why she did it. Maxine floated through her mind and her sniffling shook everything inside her. The embarrassment of how pathetic she looked sank in before she even saw herself in the mirror. She pinched herself hard, on her taught belly.

Victoria liked the pain, and she pinched until she stopped crying and was standing straight, tears drying on her cheeks. She composed herself, wiping the snot off on the shirt with all the paint on it. It was passed the point of no return so she had been sopping up random spills here and there with it. Nothing like a thousand dollar hand towel.

Her mind stayed on Maxine, even as she leaned against her doorway, looking across the void of a hallway. Thump, thump, thump, went her heart. There was a pair of used sunglasses in her jacket pocket that she kept fondling. In her back pocket, her other hand was tucked, going deep hoping to find a forgotten piece of gum or a jolly rancher. There was none.

Max's door was quaint and her little square of dry-erase still have her cute (no, not that word, she didn't mean that word) half-smile, half-frowny face on it. Victoria's lips smiled, even though her brain was telling them not to. She thought that it was that smiley that drug her across the carpet in her bare feet, and placed her knuckles on the door. She knocked twice. There was no answer.

She knocked once more and leaned her head against the door. It pushed in a little. In the dark she hadn't noticed, but the door was not closed all the way. Victoria's eyebrows were suspicious and she let her head push the door the rest of the way opened. Max's room was tight, in both space and in the slang term.

Walking inside, Victoria stood looking at Maxine's photo wall, much more extensive than her own. She didn't admire Max for any sort of talent, but she did like a few of her photos, though she would never admit it. There was one, a selfie of Maxine's, looked like it was taken in some bathroom, probably Two Whales. Victoria snagged it off the wall and ran her finger over it.

Her finger played across the fretboard of Maxine's guitar (of course she'd have one) letting the open chord ring out, reverberated in the sleeping chamber. Kate's bunny was sitting on the floor. It was a bunny that Victoria had threatened to kill once. Not out of malice, just as a joke, like most things she said. No one got her sense of humor, not even her friends (if she could call those two goons friends). Bending down to pet the rabbit, it bit her, drawing a trickle of blood. Victoria sucked on the finger, starring at the rabbit as if she were an alien. In that moment she might as well have been.

Another tear came to her eyes, but she shook it off and walked back to Max's bed. She sat carefully, feeling the comforter on her hands. She gripped it in her first as another sobbing fit hit her. Though it was fruitless, she attempted to not cry on Maxine's bed. The photo was still in her other hand and she looked at it, wishing (for just a moment) that Maxine's arms were wrapping around her, pulling her into a hug, the kind of hug that she gave Kate Marsh up on the roof earlier. The kind of hug that saved people.

Laying down on Maxine's bed she felt the pull of the sleeping pills settling in. Her eyes drifted from the photo to the dresser, where they stared at the wood stain. She didn't want to sleep there, but she did. And she dreamed of being on that roof instead of Kate Marsh, getting ready to jump. Max didn't come up there for her though. She stayed on the ground, pointing her phone, recording every moment as she pushed from the ledge, falling like a brick.

Kate Marsh wasn't the only person at Blackwell that needed saving…


	2. Alternative Campus

Victoria awoke from the dream with it slipping from the window-pane of her life into the void that all dreams go to be forgotten. A few things stuck though, like Kate Marsh and Maxine. She was so different in the dream, so courageous. Going up on that roof, pulling Kate down. It put a flutter in her heart as she rolled onto her side in the tiny twin bed.

She ran her hand along the wall of Maxine's photo, always over her favorite, the one of the beach in Washington with the terrible sandcastle being faded by the tide. Smiling there, on the bed, Maxine came through the door and for a brief, fleeting moment, Victoria was pulled back into the dream, worried that Maxine would discover that she had broken into her room.

"Hey," she said and Victoria said, rolling over to smile at her. She had bagels and coffee, the hipster kind that she must have heard about from Daniel or Mr. Jefferson. They sat and munched, sipped away at the steamy foam, waiting for the morning awkward to walk away.

"Thanks for letting me stay over," Victoria said.

"Oh yeah, I'm just super stoked to finally be making some friends." Max said, sitting at her desk as Victoria got dressed. "Those first few months were hell."

"Oh, I know the feeling. I was so scared when I finally got accepted. Without the Vortex—"

"Ugggggggh," Max said. "I'm really not looking forward to the party."

"It's still not for a few days, Maxine."

"Yeah, yeah." She paused. "Just anxious."

"Hold it," Victoria said, removing her phone and snapping a picture. "Gonna call this one 'life and times of a nerd' when I turn it into Jefferson."

"No way!" Max got up and reached for the phone as Victoria pulled it away. They wrestled for a moment, almost spilling the coffee. "Oh delete it."

"No way. Keeping that one for myself." Victoria emailed it to herself and stuck out her tongue. Max shook her head, fumbling with her hair.

"Throw me my tank? Thanks. What class do you have today?"

"English with the sub. Might skip."

"Yeah, def. Skip that shit. We're gonna go for a ride in Nathan's car and chill before photo class." Victoria got up, finishing her coffee. There was a strand of her hair hanging in her face that itched but she repressed the urge. The sun was poking in, shining right on her right eye. Max snapped her own photo and Victoria blushed.

Courtney texted her about some weed. Her face soured and Max brushed the strand a hair from her face. The emotions were enough to make her sit down again and Max fell to a nice place upon her lap.

"Maxine…"

"I know, I know. No one can know…"

"Yet. Yet." Their kiss was brief and full of teenage uncertainty. "You're such a hipster, Maxine."

"And you're a bitch." The words reminded Victoria of the dream. They kissed again, but Victoria thought only of Kate Marsh. "So skipping class?"

"Oh like you've never done it."

"Never English. We're studying Keats."

"'In noisy alley and pathless wood: where we think the truth least understood.' Gag me with my phone."

"I like him. I like the romantics."

"A nerd and a sap." They kissed again before standing and grabbing their bags. "Stay at mine tonight?"

"Really? Your room? You haven't let me in yet."

"Well I'm asking now. You want to leave first?"

"Yeah, I'm already late." Maxine opened the door but stopped. "Your place tonight."

Victoria smiled as Maxine left her own room. She started the timer on her phone and waited for the minutes to count up to five so she could leave without much a second glance from the girls on floor two. She took the time to reply to Courtney and send one to Taylor and Nathan as well. Taylor replied in an instant, like always. She had also gotten bagels and coffee. Victoria would have to jog an extra three miles to hide her and Maxine's little fling.

Nathan didn't reply till the timer went off and Victoria was halfway down the hall. Victoria told him that she had a dream about him, he made his usual quip but then quickly added that he too had an odd dream. Victoria told him about Kate. Nathan told Victoria about Kate as well. She thought it was odd that they dreampt about the same thing.

In class the only thing Victoria could think about was Kate Marsh. Stupid Kate Marsh and her Christian bull-shit. Victoria hated the girl but for some reason, on this particular day, there was a deep welled guilt boiling up through the vent of her subconscious. _Was I really that bad to her?_ She thought. _Would she ever really jump off of the roof?_

It kept flashing through her mind; looking through her phone screen at the girl standing arms spread at the top of the dormitory. The thoughts plagued her so much that she excused herself from class and went back to the dorm, climbing the stairwell towards the roof. She flipped her phone around in her hand, staring at the push-bar on the door.

Maybe if she were a different girl with a couple beers under her arm and a boy pulling her along, she would have sprung onto the roof and enjoyed the sun, but she wasn't and she did not. Her expensive shoes clacked on the stone stairs on the way down, her hands gliding on the cool railing. She stayed at the bottom and smoked a cigarette, never inhaling.

Before she knew it, photography class was in an hour and everyone was crammed into Nathan's Jeep. Victoria, Maxine, Courtney and Taylor were in the back. Hayden was in the front with Nathan driving. Victoria was looking out the window, starring out over the ocean as they went along the beautifully stretch of road. Courtney and Taylor were bickering around where they were going to get their pills.

Maxine was quiet but her hand snaked into Victoria's, their fingers intertwining under Victoria's tight skirt. The warmth of her hand pulled Victoria's gaze away from the window and she met Maxine's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Max, I'm glad you'll be joining us finally." Hayden said, obviously stoned. "I always knew you were a real party-hound."

"Oh yeah, that's me. Got my stomach pumped three times in Seattle." Maxine rolled her eyes and Victoria laughed, which caused Courtney and Taylor to laugh as well.

"Hell, just yesterday she drank a whole kegger by herself." Victoria kept going.

"Oh, yeah? You spending the night with Max now, Victoria?" Nathan said. Everyone laughed and Victoria had to feign some disgust.

"Ew," she said, squeezing Maxine's hand. Maxine pulled her hand away with a grunt.

"I always knew you were a rug muncher." Nathan…always with his quick wit. There were a few more laughs before they got back to the school. There was still ten minutes before class so they formed a little circle in the courtyard and shared gossip.

Maxine was her usual quiet self, but it was a sullen quiet. The kind the only hit those who knew why the quiet was different. Victoria kept looking over, hoping to catch her eye, but Maxine didn't move and inch. Things were so much better in bed, with the morning light and Maxine blushing under the covers. Victoria hated being mean to her, to anyone really, but that guilt was something bogged down by years of outside stimulus.

As the talking went on, she wanted to reach out and grab Maxine's hand again and tell everyone about how sick she felt having to hide a feeling that felt so real, like she could actually pull it out of herself and show everyone and they would all believe and understand and love the feeling too. It made her sick to even think the word love, but then again it was the only way for her to know that it was around.

" _I love you Maxine,"_ she thought to herself and her heart grew several sizes larger. She looked over and to her surprise, Maxine had moved. Not only that but she looked scared, frightened. Victoria wasn't even sure that she was Maxine. She looked like a dream.

"Hello, are you even listening Maxine?" Victoria said. There was a pause and that pause almost killed her.

"Max," she said. "Never Maxine." Victoria couldn't believe it. That was their little thing. Their own nickname that wasn't even a nickname because it was her real name. She didn't let anyone else call her Maxine, but she always blushed when Victoria did it.

"I know, sorry, Mad Max," Victoria said. "You're not pissed at me, right? Right? Do you want to hit the girl's potty and smoke 'em peace pipe?"

"I think Max is high," Courtney said.

"She's acting like, so weird. You cool, Max?" Victoria was a little relieved that she wasn't the only one noticing this change in Maxine (or Max now, never Maxine).

"Nobody listened when I said we shouldn't let her in the Vortex."

"Courtney, you don't want anybody in the club."

"Like whatever, bitch." At that, Maxin—Max got up and just walked away in a rush, pausing only to stare at the weirdo Warren and his nerdy girlfriend Stella. Victoria watched as the bus pulled up, Maxine got on and it pulled away. She sent several texts to her but there was no reply. Throughout all of Photo class Victoria was drawing little hearts and tearing them up when she realized how childish it was.

Looking back at her texts that night she felt the urge to gag because of how silly she had been, apologizing over and over again without so much as being acknowledged by Maxi—Max. In the back of her mind she kept hoping Max would knock on her door with popcorn and a six pack stolen from Samuel's closet, ready to crawl into Victoria's rather comfy bed and make out while ignoring the shitty movie.

But it didn't happen. Not even when Victoria stared across the hallways at Max's empty room. The only thing that happened was the assassination of Victoria's heart, which deflated back to being ten sizes too small when she saw Max…but she wasn't alone. She was with a girl, a girl in a wheelchair.

Victoria cried and drank alone until she went to bed.


	3. The Lighthouse

In the morning Victoria skipped class and stayed in bed, hugging her phone close, waiting for a text from her Maxine, but it never came. All her texts sat unanswered in her outbox. Her fingernail painting was chipping so she picked it off in little flakes. Her makeup was smudged from her restless sleep, leaving mascara streaks on her pillow case.

There was a moment when her heart skipped at the buzz of her phone, but it was only Taylor. She asked about class and gossiped about Kate Marsh. There was no mention of Maxine, so Victoria asked. Taylor said she hadn't seen her and that Kate Marsh was looking rather sordid, so much so that she hadn't changed since yesterday.

Victoria took a selfie and deleted it. She didn't like the way the dreary sky cast a bland glaze over her face. She didn't like the sky at all, not with the drizzle and the mist. If she had been in the mood to go out and shoot, it'd have been perfect, but she wanted nothing to do with her camera.

Maxine had done so little and had put such a sourness into Victoria. Not since her junior high crush had she ever stayed in bed moping. It made her self-consciously twitch at how immature she was being. So what if Maxine was being a bitch? They only spent a few nights together and they never had a public date, just the cute little date nights in the common room downstairs, late, late at night, with the lights off and a horrid movie turned down low so they could stare at each other and pretend for just a moment that they were normal and that they would be accepted.

She stood, went to the window and pulled the curtain back. In the courtyard there were few birds picking at crumbs around the trash, a blue one and a red one. They danced around each other as if wanting to mate before dive bombing across the grass and soaring up onto the roof. Warren was slinking up the sidewalk, looking as lanky and nerdy as ever. He looked up at Victoria's window and froze.

His steps were small. Maybe he could see her through the glare on her window, or maybe he was just creeping. Victoria stared back regardless, puzzling at the sudden interest shown from a guy she regularly insulted in the halls. In the back of her mind she knew it had to do with the dream she had, that was popping up randomly in her thoughts. Warren had been in that dream, though not as a starring role. Maybe he, like Nathan, had a similar one?

Victoria waved at him and he rushed off, meeting his girlfriend at the door, opening an umbrella for her and rushing back across the courtyard. After watching, she grabbed her camera and a parka. Out in the sprinkling of rain, she snapped pictures of the tobanga, the statue and the gymnasium before walking the sidewalk towards the lighthouse.

Arcadia Bay was always gloomy and full of a morose relatable to most Poe poems, but that was part of its charm and beauty. Though Victoria never prided herself as a romantic, she did like to find the beauty in things that weren't considered beautiful. As her father was leaving her mother for the youngest thing at his firm, she would snap secret pictures of her mom as she packed away her old life. Those pictures were still some of her best, though she never showed them to anyone.

The bay looked black and white behind the lens of her camera. She snapped a miserable batch of photos of the closed businesses and old fishing tackle shops, moving on to the docks and the actual bay that Arcadia was named for. The sand looked like black glass under her bare feet as she snapped a picture of a sail boat, riding a small wave.

She looked at the flashing beacon of the lighthouse, standing over the bay like a silent watcher. Not a guardian, it was not a protector. It was like the Eye of Sauron, casting it's piercing gaze onto the unsuspecting denizens of the bay, burning bright orange into everyone eyes in the late night. Her picture didn't do it justice, none of hers seemed to. But she still tried.

The path that winded up the cliff face was serene and it had stopped drizzling at that time, so Victoria removed her parka and slung it over her back. She switched to her wide angle canon lense; the 11-18 with a 2.8 aperture. It wasn't one she used often but when she did it always brought out this feeling in her. A feeling of emptiness.

 _Ah, melancholia, I am home._

Kneeling in the mud, she looked up through the lens, manually focused on the monument to solitude and snapped a picture. Or…she would have, if it weren't for the whirring sound of an automated wheel chair grinding its way through the muck. Without thinking, Victoria dove into a bush and dawned her parka.

A bolt of panic flashed through her heart because she knew who was in that wheel chair and she just knew who would be walking along side it. And so it was, Maxine and her crippled friend, that girl who suffered that accident or whatever a long time ago, losing her mother. Victoria didn't know who she was, Ashley? Maria? Whatever, it wasn't important. She was taking Maxine…or Maxine was taking her.

She couldn't hear what they were saying, but they were laughing, smiling as Maxine pushed at the back of the wheelchair to get it up a steep patch. Victoria's cheeks went rosey in embarrassment then they broiled to anger. She began sweating under the parka, a bodily function that absolutely disgusted her during her day to day minutiae, but she took no notice of it.

Who was this girl and why, just why was she better than Victoria? She couldn't even walk; she had a breathing tube in her throat so her voice was rough like the path they were walking on. There was a deepening fury building that almost brought her to tears, right there in the mud on her knees. It was a pathetic and she knew it and that was the thing that pushed her over the edge.

She swallowed her sadness and stood, slinging her camera over her back and wiping the rain from her face with her sleeve.

"Maxine," she said. Maxine stopped and turned, cocking her eyebrow. The wheelchair one turned too.

"Victoria?"

"Why didn't you text me last night?"

"Why would I do that?"

"We…had…the group had plans. To get ready for the party."

"Max? Who is this?" The wheelchair girl spoke.

"This is the one I told you about, Chloe."

"The one who's friends with Nathan?"

"Hello? I'm right here. What's your problem Max?"

"No, what's your problem?" Max said. "Ever since I got here you treated me like shit and I'm sick of it. I know these texts were your little ploy to get me to feel bad for you, but I won't, never again."

"What…I…"

"Go away, Victoria. What are you gonna do? Snap another photo of me for social medias?"

"No…I…what?"

"She said go away."

"Oh go fuck yourself, wheels."

"No, Victoria, you go fuck yourself."

At that Maxine helped turn Chloe and continued to push her up towards the lighthouse. Victoria's hand clenched into a fist as her mind blacked into nothing but fury. She couldn't think straight, or crooked, or at all. It was nothing but an animalistic takeover of her basic bodily functions, leaving her breathing fast and hard, gritting down on her perfectly brushed teeth.

But like most bouts of rage, it dwindled back into the sadness, the deep-rutted wounded paw of her subconscious. The whimpering of her soul vocalized into a sob that she choked down. Betrayed by the only person she crushed on since her week-long flirtation with Mr. Jefferson, which ended when he spoke low of her photograph of the school for their second week assignment.

Maxine had such an air about her, such a spirit that was so detained and held back in a repressive hipster guile. Her cute haircut, faux innocence, the freckled pecking at her cheeks that only brightened with her smile, all of it made Victoria week at the knees. Even though she saw herself as beautiful, pragmatic, even elusive, she was jealous of the geek and she found jealousy to be the tale-tell sign of childish love.

Her whole walk back to the dorm, the rain soaking through her parka and turning her bones soggy and chill, she thought about holding her hand and touching her face, brushing the hair from her cheek before kissing her and laying her head on her chest; spooning with her on her bed while forgetting the burden of being so young and having more work than her own father.

In her own mind she cursed at the thought of love, at the guile of romance and all it brings. She cursed her own mind for tricking her into falling for such a loveable sham, for dropping into the well of hope that always led her favorite photographers to despair. Poems were written on the feeling she felt and if they didn't make her queasy she might take a pad from her desk and scribe her spirits.

But standing there, sopping wet in her dorm room, the storm picking up to flashing lighting and booming thunder, she collapsed. Her parka dripped and her body wrung out on the carpet, forming a puddle around her. The air conditioner kicked on, pushing the cold air across the floor. She shivered as someone knocked. It took her a moment to pick herself from the floor and she didn't bother to check herself in the mirror. When she answered the knock she found herself face to face with Warren.

"Victoria?"

"What. Do you. Want." Her jaw chattered, her hands rubbed together.

"Do you…are you alright? Do you need a—"

"What do you fucking want, nerd?"

"Oh," he said. "I, uh, well, I saw your room this morning—"

"Yeah, I saw. What are you, creeping?"

"No, no, that's not it, I just," He said. "Have you noticed anything different?"

"About?"

"About things…"

"I…I don't know what you mean."

"It's just, I had this dream."

"Oh really? Maybe you should go talk to your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend, Max is. Or was. I don't know."

"Maxine?"

"Max, never Maxine."

"Yeah, I fucking get it. She's not your girlfriend. You've never even talked to her."

"But I did in the dream. You saw it. I can see it on your face. You know what I'm talking about. I'm not crazy."

"Shut up, dork. You are crazy. Get out of my room, if you can't tell, I'm rather preoccupied." She was sniffling between words, rubbing her running makeup, wiping at her hair. She felt the early signs of a cold and wanted to fix some soup.

"Fine, fine, I'll leave. Just…" He removed a photo from his pocket. It was Max's from Mr. Jefferson's classroom. "Put this somewhere safe and like…uh…just if, this happens again, it'll be different and like…just take it okay?"

Victoria stared at it for a moment before shutting the door in his face. She started stripping her wet clothes off as she turned the AC down. By the time she got a towel around her, she noticed that the geek had slipped the photo under her door. Victoria picked it up. It was never Maxine's best, but it had a quirky nature to it.

She looked at it as she got dressed. It wasn't until she was getting ready for bed that she turned it over. On the back, written in Maxine's hand writing was: With Warren, best friend. But that was impossible, because Victoria had been with her when she snapped that photo. And on the back she had written: With Victoria, best friend.

With that, she tucked it in her bra and looked across the hallway to Maxine's room. The light was off, so she crossed over and knocked lightly, leaning her ear against it. One eighth of her wished she was answer, but she didn't and the rest of her was glad.

After that she went to bed with the light on, starring at the writing on the back of the picture.


	4. Main Campus II

Blackwell was not the place she read about in the magazines. Articles written with the best of intentions that lead to well-argued statements that meant little to anyone other than the writer, ended up on her blackboard of "reasons to leave vs. reasons to stay". She flipped through photo-journals from her favorite artists, picking the ones she'd emulate and dream of behind the lens of her own camera.

She'd walk down the pier and snap photos in Jefferson's style, pretending that she too could make such an impact from such a small, unknown town. Things were brighter when she feigned promise. Dark nights in her bedroom, listening to the unrecognizable arguments of her parents beneath her sheets, led to dreams of escape and or a post-apocalyptic nightmare of a wasteland where she could be free.

Things changed when she started fumbling for words on an empty face, trying to make partnerships last and enemies die all while developing such an admiration for a man who took no notice of her unless she wore low-cut shirts, short skirts and skidded by his desk every time class ended, to wax philosophical on the various methods and techniques that went behind his favorite shots. Talking endlessly about his favorite artists. There was never any mention of her. She was just a girl.

For a moment she thought those feelings were a form of love, gestating in her teenage years to create something that would pull even the most dishonest man into her hands so that she could care and tend to his wounds after a hard day. But that didn't last. She realized that sexuality, especially with her slender frame and icy attitude, could bring her anything in life.

It took Maxine Caulfield coming into class with her peckish smile, downward eye glances and furtive day dreamy eyes to show her the feelings that led to love, or some powerful attunement of it. Jefferson just had something she wanted, Maxine had something she needed. She had a tenderness in her step, a blissfulness in her touch that made Victoria feel like a little girl again, looking up at the lighthouse for the first time.

With the power that came in Victoria's words, she wished she could control and manipulate Maxine into being her guiding hand at the close of the long school day. Though Maxine showed no signs or temptations of such a curiosity, Victoria craved for the moment when her hand could clasp Maxine's and drag her into Samuel's closet for a quick make out session before heading to one room or the other upstairs to finish the night.

There were things she dreamed of that she knew couldn't come true and maybe, just maybe that was why she was so cruel. Her mind always thought of the cutest little nicknames for Maxine and she couldn't help but twist them into vicious, conniving little jabs at the shy hipster. She was a plague on Victoria's thoughts of herself. The dominating bitch turned into a kitten just with the thought of Maxine.

Then came the snow and the eclipse and the dreams. All the dreams within dreams that twisted into more dreams that confused her to no end. It wouldn't have been hard to discern what was real and what was just a figment of some other fate, if it weren't for the photograph. The ever changing photograph. With Warren it was one photo, with Victoria it was another.

When she awoke, it was the same as it was in the dream and it was still clutched tight in her hand. She remembered what Warren had said in the dream and she remembered how she had slept in Maxine's bed and she remembered the muddy trip to the Lighthouse, where Maxine had yelled at her and told her horrible things, the kind of horrible things that she would have said to her in the real world.

There was a part of her that didn't want to think about the dreams, whichever were real or whichever were not. Even as she scrambled from Maxine's room, across the hall, back into her room where she could safely examine the photo.

 _With Warren: best friend._ That made sense in reality, but why, in a dream where she had finally been able to love this girl, had it still said the same thing? It wasn't any of her business really. She didn't fancy herself a thinker, more of an artist with a broken soul. And the photo was alright, not amazing, so she stuffed it into her dresser and headed out to class.

While Jefferson stood and talked on and on about the recent incident with Kate Marsh and how to use tragedy to inspire art, Victoria stared at Max's empty desk. It left a hollowness in her heart seeing the blank chair. It creeped up on her like a tidal wave, slamming into her and making her realize, finally realize, just how much she loved Maxine.

Damn it, she felt like an asshole, a right bitch. How could she have done what she did to Maxine when all she really wanted to do, when all she begged for at night, was to hold her. To grasp her face in her hands and plant a kiss so vibrant that the saturation of the world cranked itself up to a hundred, leaving every other feeling after that to be as dull and mind-numbing as a constant stream of hot water.

She wanted to love her in and out of the dream. She wanted to run with her and laugh with her and jump up and down and a large trampoline with her, double bouncing joyously into the unbound sky. With all the signs of apocalypse and world ending omens, there was no better time to confess her love. Even if Jefferson was furious at her sudden up-rousal , she didn't care one bit.

So up she went, heading out the door and down the hallway. She was back at the dorm in mere moments, whisking up the stairs and passed all the rooms to the end of the hall were her and Maxine's rooms were. She was going to knock on Maxine's door when she noticed, beyond all reason, that her door was slightly ajar.

With an uneasy hand, she gripped the knob and pushed into her room. An unabashed feeling washed over her, contorting her heart into an obtuse shape of Lovecratian proportion. Maxine was standing next to her dresser…holding the photo, starring into it with shock worn on her face like a mask.

"Maxine?" Victoria said.

"What…the fuck…is this, Victoria?" Max turned. "You were in my room?" Victoria stumbled on a response, her mouth hanging open like a fool. "You wrote that message didn't you? And left that picture? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I…what? No, I didn't do that. What are you talking about?"

"Then what the fuck is this?"

"Warren gave it to me, Maxine."

"Quit that. It's Max. Just Max. And Warren didn't give you shit. Your butt-buddy Nathan would probably stalk him if he so much as looked at you wrong."

"Nathan is not my butt-buddy. We're just friends."

"Whatever-the-fuck, Victoria. You're making me sick. I'm tired of all these people in Arcadia Bay." Maxine moved for the door, but Victoria stopped her, putting her hands on her arms and keeping her at length.

"Shut up, Maxine. You were nice to me once…"

"And I fucking regret it, because you went all bitch on me immediately."

"Well I wish I hadn't…" Things got quiet, with them not making eye contact. Victoria's cheeks turning red as she realized she was actually touching Maxine. She pulled away, her back against the door. Maxine grabbed her own arm in that childish way that Victoria hated to love. "I need a friend, Maxine…Max, I mean. Just Max."

"What if I need a friend too?"

"I…" Victoria reached out, but her hand fell short. "I'm not a good friend, Max. I let Kate…no, I helped Kate up on that roof. I might as well have pushed her off myself. I'm terrible, Max. I'm such a fucking mess up." She clunked to her knees, hands over the tears on her eyes. "You know…I hit on Jefferson…like I actually threatened to turn him in for my advances, just to get my fucking photo to win the contest. I was willing to…to…to…"

"Shut up, Victoria. Shut up, please? Please? This is too much. Just too much." Max moved for the door again, but this time Victoria didn't stop her. She scooted over, letting her open the door and start to move through. But then, with her frail, pale hand, she grabbed Max's leg. "Let go…please, just…let…go."

"Max, please? Please just…"

"Just what? What do you want from me?" Tears came to her eyes. Her knees quaked and buckled, putting her at even heads with Victoria, though they were both facing away from each other. "What do you want?"

Instead of words, for once, just for once, Victoria answered her question with her hands. Slow and cautious, she slid her hands into Max's, feeling her fingers bend and twist with hers, becoming more than just two girls on their knees.

Taking it as an invitation to something more, Max fell against Victoria's shoulder and Victoria held fast, putting her arms around Max and pulling her into her chest. She sobbed, they both sobbed, heaving and shaking into each other.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," Max whimpered. "I got snot on you—" Victoria hushed her, stroking her fingers through her hair. Her tears fell on Max's head. She found a soft spot during her stroking and kept her hand moving through it until Max pulled back a little, her eyes red and puffy. "I…don't even …I…"

"I love you, Max," she said.

Max pulled back again. Their hands came apart like a patch of sticky glue on some paper. And just like that, Max stood, turned fast and was across the hall. Victoria couldn't cry anymore, so she went to her little fridge, pulled out the ice-cream and watched reruns of Frasier.


	5. Vortex Pary

Victoria liked being happy. Hopeful waves of elation swarmed around her as she awoke the day of the party. She grabbed her shower bag, noticed Maxine had already left, and went through her morning routine. With the last few days throbbing in the back of her head, she was glad to finally wash it away with a cold shower. And for once, she actually liked what she saw in the mirror, though her hair was getting a bit long.

Bracelets banged around on her wrist as she went around and collected her group. The texting war that morning had led to a lot of plans; going to the diner, hiking, shopping, then back to the dorms to change for that night. Nathan would stop by with some rum and coke to fill a little canteen with, so Victoria wouldn't have to go the whole dance sober. She thanked him for that.

Taylor and Courtney looked relieved to find that Victoria was still alive, let alone smiling. They wanted to remark on how they hadn't seen her since the Kate Marsh thing, but they didn't. Little did Victoria know, but they too had the faintest memories of dreams of a time when Maxine was about to be a part of the vortex.

Dana's music was up loud, like always, but the song was nice, so the group chilled by the stairwell, listening, waiting for Nathan's text. It came after a few songs and they headed out to meet him. They walked and talked with him and Hayden to the front of the school, were Nathan had left the motor running, keeping the car a respectable temperature.

They drove the short distance to the Two Whales, went in, chatted with Dana and Juliet who had somehow beaten them there. They all ordered together but sat apart, eating their omelets and pancakes draped in syrup, with crispy bacon and sausage. It was the kind of breakfast grandma makes, fattening for a big day that might not include a lunch.

Nathan paid, like usual, and they headed out to the hiking trails that ran along the coast. There was a small argument about how long they would hike. Taylor said her ankles were a little sore from practice the other day, but Victoria, with her camera in tow, convinced to soldier through the seven mile one. It was called "Big Bend" for the steep and narrow rock face that marked the mid-way point.

Victoria snapped pictures of the group and the landscape, not paying much attention to composition or color. They were regular snap-book photos, for the family and friends to remember each other by. There was one she really liked and even made a mental note to show to Jefferson. A bird had flown down over Courtney while she was stretching and landed on her hand, just as a group of clouds had broken, letting the sun pour in. It was majestic.

After the hike, the boys dropped the girls off at the little strip mall in town while they went to pick up the booze from a cousin or something. Victoria bought an outfit, looking at herself in the mirror and pretending that Maxine was complementing her on it, telling her to get something more provocative, or more subtle. She felt glad when Taylor didn't mention that she caught her blushing.

Back in the car with the boys, they drove back to the dorms, where they showered, changed and chilled in Victoria's room, sipping on a bottle before it was time to go set up for the party. Victoria let everyone go before her, while she stayed behind and took all the photos from the past few days from her SD card and put them on her laptop. She flipped through them and before she knew it Taylor was texting her wondering where she was. They had already set up the tables and the drink and needed the key to the photography room to set up their little "drunk tank photo booth".

Hurried, she hoped up and went out the door. She didn't make it far. Maxine was there, about to leave. They stared at each other, both blushing, remembering what had happened the previous night. Victoria tried to think of something mean to say, but there was nothing.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey."

"I like that top."

"Oh really? Thanks. Oh, and I like yours too."

"Just got it today, for the party," Victoria said, twisting the hem of her shirt in her fingers. "You gonna be there?"

"I don't think so. I'm not on the list."

"You can be my plus one," Victoria said. She covered her mouth after, realizing how eager, no not eager, desperate, she sounded. "I mean…"

"Listen, Victoria…"

"No, no. Let me talk first," Victoria said. "I'm sorry, Maxine. I'm so, so sorry. For everything. You treated me like a friend when I was nothing but cruel to you…and I wish I had taken you up on your offer then."

"You want to be my friend?"

"Yes," though Victoria meant to say 'no, I just want to be your lover'. "I really do, Maxine."

"Please," Max said, blushing. "Max, never Maxine."

"Yes, sorry, Max."

"So, tonight then? You and me? I could really use a night to relax after…well…"

"You were so brave, Max." Victoria's hand softly touched Maxine's shoulder. "I'll make sure to share my special drank with you."

"Special drank? What are you now? Some kinda gangsta?"

"Straight thug." They laughed, followed by a not so awkward silence as they stared at each other's faces for some time. Then Victoria's phone buzzed almost at the same time as Maxine's.

"Oh, shit, forgot. I gotta run. The goon squad needs my help setting up."

"Oh, yeah, cool, cool." Maxine's face grew somber as she read her own text. "I gotta go too."

"See you there tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Seven."

"Seven. Got it."

Victoria smiled the whole way to the gymnasium, where she found Taylor and Courtney trying very hard to heft a huge speaker onto its stand.

"You know, if you lay them both down, you can just screw it on, then lift it up. Idiots." Victoria walked passed them, said high to Hayden and asked where Nathan was. He said that Nathan had a problem with the rest of the 'party favors' and was trying to find Frank or whoever. Victoria gave him the spare key to the photography room so he could get the camera supplies, while she went took her laptop out and sorted through her various party playlists.

She sifted through the lot before decided to start from scratch. There needed to be songs in it that Maxine would like. Songs that were slow and indie just like her chic style. Songs that would give her the excuse to try and slow dance with her, hold her close and smell the lightness of her hair, to feel the softness of her plain t-shirt against Victoria's face. But nothing too sappy. It was a party after all.

As the party started up that night, Victoria, being a nice host, kept an eye on the front door while going around and passing out drinks and getting snacks for people. At least that's why she told Courtney to go enjoy the songs while she took over for her. Really she was just waiting for you-know-who. It was well past seven and there was no sign of her flannel jacket, or boyish grin.

Several of the hand-picked sap-songs had already passed and Victoria hadn't even had a chance to dance, not even with Nathan or Courtney or anyone. People kept coming up to her and asking about her photography, or asking for a dance or telling her to take it easy and enjoy the party 'for Kate' (they all kept adding that to the end of their sentences). But no one understood. She was a guardian for her own heart, standing at the gates, waiting for the only person she ever invited to show up and be let in.

It wasn't until eight o'clock that Victoria spotted the beautiful girl, and her elation didn't even last till 8:01, because Maxine brought a friend, a date, a blue haired devil that looked to be taller, harder and maybe, dare she think it, cuter than Victoria. She had on worn leather, with piercing in places Victoria was always too shy to get.

What made it worse, what made it hurt more than even the dreams, was that the girl was familiar. Yes, very familiar. If she didn't have the blue hair, the piercings, the leather, the major tude, and was confined to a wheel chair with a breathing tube in her throat…no, it couldn't be. Victoria dropped her drink at the realization, almost crying but opting for just a yelp instead. It was the girl from the dream…the one that stole Maxine.

Nathan came over at once, asking what had happened. He followed Victoria's gaze and saw the blue haired girl.

"What's that bitch doing here?"

"You know her?"

"That's the one that gets me my stuff sometimes. She thinks I owe her big or some stupid shit like that. What the hell is she doing here? And with Maxine? What the hell? Who invited her?"

"I invited Max," Victoria said, putting a hand on Nathan's arm, stopping him from his pacing. "She was nice to me and I think she deserves at least one more chance."

"And here I thought you were going to surprise me with a whole 'Carrie' situation planned out or some shit. But whatever-the-fuck. God damn it, why did blue-haired bitch have to show up?"

"I don't know." Victoria said.

"I'll take care of it," Nathan said. "Mark my words."

Nathan moved through the crowd, Victoria trying to keep up with him. He snatched Chloe's arm, dragging her away from Max. She yelled, but was hardly audible over the music, which thumped and bumped the room up and down. Victoria saw this and grabbed Maxine's arm, trying to put on a smile. She held out her untouched punch cup.

"Hey, you made it. Thank God too."

"Hey, Victoria, what's up with Nathan?"

"What?"

"He just swooped in and snatched my friend."

"Oh, she's your friend?" Victoria put the cup of punch in Maxine's hand. "Nathan said they had some business."

"Oh no."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nathan has a gun, Victoria. He pulled it on that girl earlier this week."

"What? A gun?"

"And she has a gun too."

"What are you talking about?"

"One of them is going to shoot the other, Victoria! Fuck!" Just then, three shots rang out, two from the same gun and one from the other. The sound was deafening, even over the music that kept playing as the party erupted into screams. Surprised and terrified students looked around for an answer, but all they saw was the flashing strobe-light-outlines of their fellow classmates as the laser lights blinked across the room.

It sat frozen like that for just a moment.

Then it erupted into chaos.

Everyone started running and pushing and shoving and trampling, some climbing and some punching, their way towards an exit. Victoria desperately reached out and tried to cling to Max. With her fingers intertwined in her shirt, she tried to keep up. Maxine was pushing through the crowd, or trying to. Her small frame and petite figure wasn't standing much of a challenge to the jocks and bullies who populated the event.

Victoria stepped forward, using her height and slenderness, she pushed Maxine behind her, gripping her hand tight, squeezing, and slid through the cracks and crevices in the crowd that was piling up on the doorway. It was suffocating, the atmosphere of the dance going from light too thick with sweat and heat in just seconds.

It wasn't but a minute before Victoria had snuck her way out the backside of the mob. With Maxine's hand in hers, they both ran, not sure where they were going, just towards where they thought the shots came from. They turned down a hall and ran passed the empty classrooms in the darkness. Police sirens were piercing the heavens with their cries. Victoria was sure they could be heard all over Arcadia Bay.

The only light in the entire building was the bathroom. It's door sat ajar, the slit of light pouring out across the foyer. Maxine called out Chloe's name, tears coming to her eyes. Victoria's heart rocked against her chest, filling her ears with the pumping sound of adrenaline and fear. It was her who pushed open the bathroom door and revealed the scene.

Both parties, Chloe, the blue haired punk and Nathan, the rich boy ass, laid dead on the bathroom floor. Blood still flowed from their gun shots, Nathan's two and Chloe's one, covering the floor in a sticky, deep red that seemed almost impossible. There wasn't much but the far side of the bathroom that hadn't already been covered. Nathan had been shot in the throat and the heart and his eyes were opened to the sky, mouth hanging open as if he had tried to call out for help.

Chloe was face down, an exit wound in her back, just around the abdomen. She was breathing, but they were quick and wheezing. She coughed, clearing some linoleum of the blood around her mouth and then she died. Maxine watched as did Victoria. They didn't know what to make of it. The only thing that kept popping up in Victoria's mind was the blood; it looked like syrup.

Maxine fell into Victoria, who dragged her out into the hall as the principal, several teachers and officers came rushing up. Their words didn't make any sense in Victoria's head. Were they asking questions? Making statements? Giving orders? It felt like how Victoria assumed dyslexia was like. Gibberish. Noncoherent babble.

They both cried there in the hall. Someone put a blanket over them at some point. They also moved them out onto the front steps. Victoria couldn't remember when. The cold of the shock wore off a bit though and she felt the warmth from their bodies intermeshed together. They must have been clinging to each other for hours, sobbing into each other's shirts. The cool breeze of the night made her shiver as it hit the wet spots on her shoulder and chest.

She thought Maxine fell asleep there and she hoped she'd wake up there. It hurt so much. But Victoria liked the pain. And she loved Maxine.

Thank you for reading.


	6. Thank You Letter

Hey everyone,

Thank you for the reviews and favorites. This is the first fan fiction I've wrote in years. I really enjoyed it even if it doesn't have a normal story structure. It's really just about exploring a love between these two characters. I hope it made you feel something.

I know the whole dream talk might have confused some of you. Just keep in mind, Max could still rewind in this story and it takes place at the end of Chapter 3 into the Vortex Party. So the dreams were my way of representing the alternate timeline through another character's eyes. Much like in Donnie Darko.

Anyways, just wanted to thank those of you who like it.

Peace.


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